


Seconds

by QueanBysshe



Category: 10th Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Abortion, Civil wars, F/M, Feminist Wolf, Healthy Relationships, Oral Sex, Recovery, Specism, Werecats, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 11:18:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17507600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueanBysshe/pseuds/QueanBysshe
Summary: Life after Adventure.





	1. No Accidents

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lycaenion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lycaenion/gifts).



> Written as an opener for an RP thread with Lycaenion.

Virginia came home one morning smelling… un pregnant. Wolf was immediately all attention; but he tempered it, consciously trying to lower his hackles. Since coming to the Tenth permanently, Wolf had been doing a lot of reading (the Tenth had so many books! More books than any royal library! Wolf loved most to read, and books were hard to come by unless you were richer than he’d ever been), and had asked Virginia about what she thought he should learn. So he’d learned about feminism, and especially lately about the issue of birth control. They didn’t have sex without condoms now, and Virginia had been less happy with being pregnant than Wolf had assumed she would be.

And now she wasn’t.

Wolf felt upset, but he tried very hard to check it. Very hard. They’d already talked about how he needed to not demand she talk about her feelings, even if he could tell what they were. He needed to give her time to not just _have_ them, but to also _process them_. So he backed down—she was the Alpha after all—and it was her body that had to be pregnant, after all—and didn’t say anything. He also took care to not let it show in how he opened drawers, and closed the microwave door. The apartment building had been fixed up in the time Virginia had been gone, and it was really very nice now, and the Wish Tony had made was still in effect, and the police investigation was over, and so they had a small, old, but fixed up apartment, with a new repairman, and a janitor, both of which were union kids.

It was a very good piece of luck, Virginia had told Wolf—getting a place to live was, it seemed, an even bigger problem in the Tenth Kingdom, despite its obvious plenty. Wolf had seen it, in the packs of homeless kids in Union Square holding signs, in the statistics he read in the news, and the way Virginia always gave money to homeless people they passed (and Wolf did too, even when she wasn’t with him, because _of course you did that_ , did you want to be _Cursed_ or something for being Unkind? People here were so _careless)._

But here and now, Virginia was taking a post-work shower, and Wolf was quietly slicing the tri-tip he’d gotten that afternoon, and his tail was practically trying to wrench itself from his body, it was wagging so hard in mixed feelings, held low in nervousness, a whine subvocalizing in his throat.

‘I could hear you in the bathroom,’ Virginia said, and Wolf didn’t look up at her, afraid to meet her eyes. By now, she had done her share of reading on wolves (humans here actually _liked_ wolves, _studied_ the way they communicated!), and knew he couldn’t help the whining, and knew that avoiding eye-contact was fear, not guilt. She was wrapped in a towel and smelled like soap.

‘I didn’t have a miscarriage,’ she went on, too nonchalant, too calm, for this not to have been practised. ‘I’m okay. I had an abortion.’

‘Is it—is it okay if I ask why?’ He tried to keep preparing dinner, but he really should put the knife down before he cut himself… why wasn’t she touching him? Why? Oh, wait, he had a knife and was covered in raw meat, she’d just taken a shower….

‘Yes, Wolf,’ she said, voice gentling. He put the knife down, and washed his hands, coming out of the kitchen to sit on the sofa. She came over and sat next to him, hugging him.

‘I’m not ready to have a baby, yet,’ she said. ‘After what happened with my childhood, and recently, with my mom…’ she trailed off, looking away and blinking hard, two tears falling as she struggled not to start crying about that, just for the moment. ‘I promised my future children, if I have any, that they would have better than being an accident. I want to do _right_ by them, I want to _plan_ them, I want to make _sure_ they have what they need, _before_ they’re here.’ She took a deep, shaky breath.

‘Also, I… want to have them in the Fourth Kingdom,’ she said finally. ‘Not here. I mean, okay, I want to—to get them _vaccinated_ , obviously, and I want to know if magic cuts down on people dying while giving birth before I give up hospitals, but… socially, I just—I like your world better. And there, we’re, you know, we’re a lot better off, and have a larger support network. And more nature.’

Wolf leaned against her, and put his face in her neck, and didn’t say anything for a long while, just thinking about it all. He’d read a book about pregnancy and that it wasn’t really alive this early, and anyway he knew that, it wasn’t alive until it started being _quick_ , and so that was okay, ending it that early. It had only been a month or so.

‘I made the appointment as soon as we got back, I just couldn’t get anything earlier,’ Virginia said, quietly. ‘I… want you to know that.’

Okay, so she’d… never wanted the baby. All the agreeing she’d done, it was… well, it was sort of non-committal, wasn’t it? He realised it was just that he’d assumed so much that she felt the same as he did… oh dear. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t stop and ask,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry, that was bad. That was a bad thing to do.’

She put a hand on his hand, and he stopped talking. ‘I appreciate that you understand it was unhealthy,’ she said, always careful not to use ‘good’ and ‘bad’. They’d both read a lot of therapy books, since therapy was very expensive (Wolf was now grateful he _had_ accidentally gotten what was a very expensive healing session), and had talked a lot with one another about, well, talking. ‘But it’s understandable that you felt that way, too, and I understand if you need to grieve.’

He almost said _‘oh no, I don’t need to grieve! We can always have pups later, that’s fine!’_ but he stopped. Saying things right away was not a good idea, it was a better idea to think first, and to identify your feelings first, and think about the other person’s context. ‘Well,’ he said, sure of one thing, ‘it’s your body, and so it’s okay with me that you decided what to do without asking. You don’t need to ask!’ he added, just to be sure she understood that. ‘Cripes, you’re not a _brood mare_ or something—’

She laughed at his signature wolfiness coming out, ‘Okay, Wolf, I get it.’ He really was unlike any man she’d ever met. He truly didn’t _understand_ the idea that a man would even feel _entitled_ to that kind of thing. _Space-Alien_ , she thought with a smile. _My fiancé really is a space-alien_. ‘I’m gonna be a little shaky for a few days, the Nurse said, so could you cover for me at work?’

‘Of course, my love!’ Wolf said, with so much dramatic flair that people usually thought he was an actor. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. ‘Don’t worry about a thing!’

‘Thanks, sweetie,’ she said, and hugged him again. ‘Now, I’m gonna veg out and watch some X-Files, is that okay? Or should I watch something else?’ She knew that X-Files sometimes bothered him, in the way that TV shows without bad people being punished and good people being rewarded bothered him. He also was a lot more sensitive to feminist stuff than she was, but that’s because—she was learning this— _he’d grown up in a matriarchy._ She hadn’t really needed to _teach_ him feminism so much as teaching him the _word_ feminism.

‘I like Scully,’ he said, and that settled it; if the episode was one that had good, _powerful_ Scully, then they’d keep watching it. Virginia didn’t mind asking if he was okay with this or that show—TV was still a weird culture shock thing for him, and he got overstimulated by the sheer sound of the TV being _plugged in_ , sometimes, let alone _on_.

It was a fun episode, because Virginia found a syndicated one from a few years ago, and they watched it, laughing together. Wolf finished dinner, and it was delicious, and Virginia reflected it was so nice to live with a man who not only valued fresh food, but could cook amazingly well, _and_ did the dishes properly.

He didn’t even ask if they could have their customary nightly fuck, which was very astute of him, but he did ask, shyly, if he could lick her. ‘Just licking!’ he assured her. ‘That’s all! That’s gentle enough, right?’

‘Sure,’ Virginia said, knowing how gentle he could be, ‘but I don’t know if I can come, just now. I’m pretty sore.’

But he didn’t mind, he just wanted to worship her in some way; and Virginia really felt like some kind of queen, the way he always arranged the bed, and made sure she was comfortable, and kissed her and acted like every time he was allowed to actually look at her, and touch her, it was a privilege, a _luxury_ , an _honour_ , that he wouldn’t get again.

And he always wanted to use his mouth on her. No hesitance! She’d never gotten eaten out before Wolf, guys were always saying how gross it was. Wolf _preferred_ eating her out, and he started with long, soft, slow licks to her breasts, his hands stroking down her sides, before his mouth closed on her nipple and started to suckle. He was like that.

She was sure that after a while he was going to end up making her nipples a lot bigger, which how studiously he did this, every time, every night she let him. She was starting not to mind it, it was hard to mind it, when he was so loving, and she loved him so much, and it was him giving so much affection to a part of her body that nobody else gave any affection. Body Politics was something Wolf had a lot of Opinions about, both from personal experience and in reaction to Virginia telling him some of the things she’d had to deal with.

He worked his way down, whimpering a little as he nuzzled _very_ softly at her belly, not using any pressure at all, before going lower, burying his nose in her pubic hair and spending long minutes just inhaling deeply of the scent, which was… god, _god_ , that was so sexy. Just the way he just— _enjoyed her_. Her! Just her, nothing else, just Virginia, fullstop. No changes necessary—no shaving, no makeup, no perfume, nothing. Just her body, how it was.

He used his tongue to part her labia, and licked, gentle and slow, at her clit, and Virginia squirmed at his growl of satisfaction, at the feeling of it, sparking pleasure across her body, even though she was still aching a little. It helped, the pleasure, and he was so gently, so sweetly licking her, being as gentle as a breeze, mouthing gently at her labia intermittently, making all manner of high-pitched little noises, his tail wagging his whole lower half, and held high in excitement and happiness. She knew that sometimes, he outright barked—but not how dogs barked. It was a strange, wild, open-mouthed bark, one that wolves made.

He stopped, after a while, and lifted his head, licking his lips, eyes bright yellow, and asked, ‘Do you want me to go on, or stop?’

Virginia lay back, pleasure fading, and said, ‘Go on.’

He did, and he also kept asking, tireless, until he stopped on his own, right about when she was ready for him to, announcing her body couldn’t take any more, and he wasn’t going to go on, no sir, not even if she asked. And she laughed, and he went and got a cool cloth, cleaning her up with gentle dabs.

‘Did you like that?’ he asked.

‘That was nice,’ she said. It _had_ been nice, to not really think about whether she was going to orgasm, whether she was taking too long to orgasm.

‘Do you feel,’ he asked, ‘sufficiently worshipped, my love?’

She chuckled. ‘Maybe come over here and let’s make out a little more.’

He flung himself beside her, doing a play-bow excitedly, unable to help it, before flopping onto his side and wriggling onto his back. She propped herself up and kissed him, and reached over a hand to stroke his belly, which was about as furry as his wolf form, though not quite. He whined happily, going still, and kissed back.


	2. The Late Queen

Tony wasn’t a fool; he knew that the Industrial Revolution was a complicated thing, and that you had to do it carefully if you were doing it on purpose. He knew there was a lot to learn; and for the first time, he wanted to. It was crazy, but this world had grown on him (well, except for the “random and overcomplicated tasks” part; _that_ part was stupid), and he wanted to help.

He knew from stories that they had spinning wheels, and he knew from history class in high school that enclosing the public land had been the first bad step of the revolution. He didn’t want another “pay to breathe” situation, like New York was. He’d talked a _lot_ with Wendell about it, and to some of the more competent advisors here. They’d actually been _interesting_ to talk to, and _interested_.

So, the first step was to stop the enclosure of public land, which was something that a few nobles were trying to push through. After Tony described how that had turned out in his world, the entire council had looked ill, and had stopped even having it be up for debate. It got struck down with unanimous agreement from both them _and_ Wendell.

So what was the first stage? How could they achieve the wonders of the Tenth, without falling into the mistakes? Surely there was something to learn.

Tony got out of his depth, but he went to the Tenth, and called up his high school friend that had become a political activist. Kofi gave Tony a booklist, and Tony went and bought all of them at the Strand, and a few more the woman helping him suggested. Then, he went back to the Fourth.

The books got passed around and read, discussed, and were still being gone through (though a lot of these guys were _really_ fast readers) when there was a… diplomatic Incident, in the form of a visitor coming _very_ late to the Coronation.

She was _made_ of candy. Her eyes were large and dark and made of something shiny and soft, maybe licorice gumdrops, if those were a thing, and she had a body that was jointed and doll-like, made of striped hard candy in white and red and black. Her face was a little spooky, and she spoke without her mouth moving—it was a solid piece, Tony realised, with only a small opening for sound to come out. She wore normal clothes, with big sleeves, but a very short, poofy skirt with lots of ruffly petticoats beneath.

With her was a contingent of Wolves, about four of them, and then Tony saw that two of them had very different tails from Wolf’s, longer and moving… oh, so there were more than just Wolves, Tony thought, as Wendell took a seat on his throne. The candy-girl came forward with a clockwork kind of style to her movements, and bowed.

‘Your Majesty. We were delayed by sabotage, and are deeply sorry to have been so late. Most of Our gift to you was ruined in the troubles that plagued our journey, but…’ She drew forth from her sleeve a fist-sized, broken piece of chocolate, holding it out. A little shoot of chocolate, with the tiniest spearmint leaves, was sticking out of the top. More interesting, however, was how her face had changed—now it was in a smiling expression, not a neutral one. ‘It is still alive, and will grow if you plant it.’

Wendell didn’t really mind she hadn’t been there; dealing with his stepmother _and_ the two rulers of the Second having to share a single castle without dead bodies or shards of candy showing up everywhere would have been too much stress. ‘I am glad you were able to save such a precious tree, I know they are sacred, and I am honoured that the Sugar Plum Kingdom would gift me one of them.’

‘Thank you, Your Majesty. We are glad to have heard of the decree, regarding Wolves, and hope you may extend it to other Animals, in time.’ She bowed, and Tony had. _So_ many questions; but even he knew not to say anything, despite feeling stupid just standing there with his hands behind his back.

‘You are welcome to stay, in fact,’ Wendell said, ‘I insist upon it. Stay a fortnight at least, please.’

When she rose, her face was surprised. How was she doing this? ‘His Majesty is very merciful! Thank you, Your Majesty, that is very Kind.’

‘It’s only Decent,’ Wendell replied, firmly. ‘If you need anything, please let my staff know; and I shall be sure to send the Royal Gardener, to learn how to care for the tree.’

She bowed again, her face going back to that happy expression. ‘Thank you, Your Majesty, thank you.’

‘Teller, show Her Majesty to… the Peony Suite, I think.’

One of the staff Tony vaguely recognised bowed, and showed them out. Tony waited until the doors closed, and Wendell sat back more comfortably (though to Tony it still looked stiff, unused to people who sat up straight as he was), leaning on one hand. ‘You have questions.’

‘How was she changing her face? Does it move?’

‘Sleight-of-hand, I believe.’ Wendell said. ‘The Northern Second magicians like to mock it with their shows, though the Hard-bodied have no better way to express their expressions.’

‘Wow, so there’s racism here. Okay.’

‘Of course there’s specism, Tony. Did you not notice it, travelling as long as we did with Wolf?’

‘I mean, um…’ Tony trailed off, realising what he’d been about to say about Wolves. ‘Wow, geez. I guess we have anti-Wolf specism in the Tenth, too.’ He rocked on his heels. ‘Candy,’ he said. ‘Candy people.’

‘Yes, Tony. Pixies.’

‘ _Pixies_. Okay.’ Tony held his tongue on _that_ being a Pixie. After all, Elves were apparently not little shoemakers, and now Pixies weren’t bug-sized winged people. The Tenth didn’t seem to get anything right but Dwarfs and Trolls and Giants… though they’d gotten Trolls _all_ kinds of wrong, in terms of who lived under bridges and who had a shoe fetish….

‘I hope no one died,’ Wendell said softly, getting to his feet. ‘That was a small group, and I know Queen Aniseen wouldn’t travel with a party that small, not to a Coronation….’ He sighed, scrubbing at his face. Sometimes he hated this whole Caring About Other People thing, it was so exhausting in comparison to not caring…. He supposed that’s why Wickedness was so tempting—because it was so _Easy_.

He wasn’t going to be his stepmother, he was going to be _better_ , he thought, setting his shoulders and going back to the council chamber, Tony following him down the hall.

‘So what are the, uh, the Cats called? Cats? Or is it something more specific?’

‘Pards, Tony,’ Wendell answered, calmed by the questions Tony had, glad for the distraction. ‘They’re called Pards. _Don’t_ call them cats, that would be like calling Wolf a dog.’

‘Noted. So… I’ve heard of a leopard, what’s a pard?’

Wendell paused, blinking and giving Tony a look of utter confusion. ‘I… suppose a hybrid between a lion and a pard, but I’ve never heard of a leopard.’

‘Oh wow, um, okay. Well in the Tenth, they’re these _big_ wild cats, with spots, and they uh, they’re not lions,’ he finished, lamely, feeling once again like he really didn’t know enough about his own world for this job. Virginia had never had an Animals! phase, though, and neither had Tony. Maybe he should have taken her to the zoo more….

‘Fascinating,’ Wendell said, which always seemed to put a huge smile on Tony’s face, so he kept using that word when Tony was explaining something interesting and different about the Tenth.

‘Do Pards change on the full moon too?’

‘New moon,’ Wendell said, ‘not to cut this off—you know I enjoy trading facts like this—but I need to start preparing for… whatever the two queens of the Second are going to get up to.’ Aniseen was always sweet, but Latericia was… not, to put it delicately; and she was already furious at his pardon of Wolves as a species, rather than Wolf, singular.

Most people outside the Second, at least the _nobles_ , were on one side or the other, when it came to who was the “real” Queen of the Second Kingdom—the militant, and those who thought Animals shouldn’t be allowed, sided with Latericia; those who favoured Animals favoured Aniseen. Needless to say, Aniseen did not have many allies. She was one of the only non-human nobles in the Nine, and the most unsettling (after the Ice Queen, who rarely ventured south of the frozen wastes surrounding her estate; she always sent very unsettling Ambassadors, though—the only people that could survive in her castle were the Dead, which Tony referred to as “Vampires” after hearing a description of them). The Elves had a détente with her, as well as the Dwarfs, but she had no formal alliances, everyone not wanting to risk the wrath of Latericia, or simply not willing to change their stance on Wolves.

Wendell remembered the last time he’d seen Aniseen; it had been at a party, and the only time anyone could remember her getting angry…

_Well, **most** Animals are all right, of course! I’ve got friends who are Bears, even. But you have to admit, Your Majesty, Wolves—_

Aniseen’s anger mask was terrifying, all sharp white teeth of boiled candy and eyes that _glowed_ with her little-shown magic, the magic that gave her life. She had said nothing, but the face was enough.

Wendell had thought her mad, at the time; now, he felt like he owed her an apology, though this was the first time he’d ever really spoken to her, rather than simply seeing her at a party. First, though, he had to inform the council of what might have happened, and see what they should do about it. These things had to be handled delicately, especially with so many political visitors from other kingdoms still staying in the palace….

 

 


End file.
